


Breaking Point

by DiscordsMuse



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Just Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Secret Relationship, Seduction, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, meg thomas is horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23133241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscordsMuse/pseuds/DiscordsMuse
Summary: Evan had a bad trial and intends to work some of his anger off with push-ups.Meg has a better plan.
Relationships: Evan MacMillan | The Trapper/Meg Thomas
Comments: 6
Kudos: 124





	Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> All my love to Seal who is the most amazing Evan I've ever had the pleasure of roleplaying with, hope you all enjoy it as much as we did.
> 
> {This is a roleplay re-written into a fanfic}

A trial had just ended, Meg had heard Nea and Jake laughing about beating the Trapper. The artist still held a flashlight in her hand while the man beside her had his trusty toolbox. Kate and Quentin seemed to be in equally good moods and while the blonde was nursing a nasty looking ankle wound, that looked like the worst of their injuries. As glad that Meg was that her friends were safe she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of worry for the killer. The Entity wasn’t fond of her tools failing, and often killers seemed to be punished when they did poorly. The runner saw the worst of it when it came to the metal woven into Evan’s skin.

After spending a few moments giving the necessary pats on the back and helping clean up the hook wound in Jake’s chest, Meg made a stop at her pile of clothes and headed off into the dark forest. In the silence of the wood she could hear the whisperings of the Entity, swirling around her like the mist that was ever present among the trees. The voice was indiscernible, a language she’d never heard and couldn’t understand; yet it was always there in the silence. Above her rose the trees, rotting trunks and gnarled roots leading her in loops and turns. As much as she willed it to bring her to the estate, the darkness led her first past the asylum and through the decrepit swamp before she finally spotted a trap in the blue-tinted shadows. 

Thank god.

Skirting around traps, the redhead stepped past the rotting metal scrap pile and up old wooden steps. The manor was dark, foreboding when a fire wasn’t lit in the ancient fireplace; moonlight shown through broken windows and created ghosts in the shadows. It must have been beautiful once, and she tried to imagine it on the Washington countryside rather than the twisted realm the Entity wove. Beneath her feet, the manor groaned and creaked as she crested the stairs to the veranda and heard movement within the house. It sounded familiar, the huffs of breath and grunts that came with a workout; so when Meg entered and came to view Evan she was hardly surprised. He was on the ground doing push-ups, a sheen of sweat on his skin glistening in the moonlight. An appreciative smile rose on her lips, the muscles in his back flexing with each push and the growl that pushed from his chest almost made her forget why she’d come in the first place. He was angry, that was obvious in how forceful the action seemed to be; hopefully she could make his day a little better.

“Hey big guy, miss me?” Her voice drew his attention, head tilting slightly but not enough for his eyes to catch her.

“Meg,” His voice was gruff and slightly out of breath as he looked back towards the ground and continued his push-ups. “Listen, I’m a little busy. The last trial was a bitch.” He continued his reps and she leaned against the doorway to listen. “Got me with the goddamn flashlights, bet they were fuckin’ smug about it too.” Her teeth bit into her lip, Nea certainly had been but she wasn’t going to let him know that. He was angrier than she thought, he only cursed when he was furious and strain crept into his voice like a poison. Pushing off the wall, she took a few slow steps around him; her tennis shoes nearly silent save for the creaking of the house. Tugging the hair tie from her hair, she let the russet strand fall around her face. Meg knew how much he liked to run his hands through it, shaking her head slightly as she stopped in front of him and rested her hands on her hips.

“I heard some survivors talking about it, figured you could use some company.” Even while looking down, Meg could see his scowl and knew what was coming before he spoke. He found her amusing, usually, but now was clearly a bad time.

“Meg,” he growled as he pushed himself onto a knee. “Like I said, now’s not a good fucking...time..”

The redhead grinned despite herself, watching his eyes scan up her body. Meg had made the devious decision to take the high socks she wore with the tall boots and the short tennis skirt (minus the shorts beneath), pairing them with the comfortable crop top she usually wore with her longer skirt. Paired together it was like something out of a fantasy, and she got the feeling Evan was putting that together in his head. On his knee, he could probably see more of her legs than any proper man in the 19th century should have seen and watching the blush color his cheeks was well worth it. 

“What are you doing? You have that look again.” His expression was skeptical, eying her cautiously as he stood. Meg tried to lose her sly expression and widened her eyes until she held a doe-like visage. “And what are you wearing?” Looking down, the runner smoothed the fabric of the skirt with dainty fingers before clasping her hands behind her back. _Yes, picture of innocence._

“Like I said, I thought you could use some company.” Giving him a smile, she took a step closer and kissed his chin lightly before stepping back. “And, I’m wearing clothes, Evan. Would you rather I walked around in the fog without them?” Meg knew precisely what she was doing but plastered that innocent expression on her face as if she was wearing any of the other outfits the Entity left her with. Any other one may have stopped the cool breeze from ghosting along the tops of her thighs, but that wasn’t concerning her now. “I had a trial pretty recently, so I figured I could get away with wearing something nice for a bit.”

Nice? Honestly, she could nearly laugh at herself. This wasn’t _something nice,_ this was something evil. Meg had mentioned the skirt the day they’d first kissed, though she'd been complaining then Evan had turned the prettiest shade of pink; she figured she’d give him the full picture this time. He was always so patient, so polite, and they’d still made it past a gentle kiss or cuddling by the fire. Now here she was changing in a split-second decision to bank on him being enough on edge to...well, she’d see. With the smile still on her lips she practically skipped to his worktable and hopped onto it. Crossing her legs, the skirt lifted ever higher and cool wood kissed her bare thighs. How Evan didn’t freeze in here, she didn’t know, yet she managed to keep her composure. Pretending as if she wasn’t sitting on the table in naught but a crop top and oh so short skirt was one hell of a task.

“Why, something wrong with my outfit?” Gold eyes gave her a cautious glare, some of that deep green swirling within the shadows of his mask. In his time this would probably be considered far past indecent, high socks framing her legs instead of covering them and wearing what must be one of the shortest skirts he’d seen in his life. She hoped so at least. 

“That's not- That isn’t what I meant!” He growled, arms crossing as his head turned. Meg still caught him glancing, dark gaze flicking from her thighs to the little grin on her face. It must be a hell of a challenge not to look. “It doesn’t look bad,” Evan added after a moment of silence. “It’s just… it’s real short.” Shifting, she felt the fabric rise higher and her smile grew wider as his breath caught. “Aren’t you cold?”

The flustered frustration was nearly radiating from him, as was his warmth. He’d played right into her game. “Actually, a little. C’mere.” Meg held out an arm and tilted her head. Hair tumbled over her shoulder and she did her best to look angelic. Even with him covered in sweat, dirt, and blood, the runner didn’t mind. In fact, it added a weird spike of adrenaline. The impropriety of his touch, the marks he might leave...it made her giddy and she found herself wiggling her fingers to beckon him nearer.

To her, the skirt was similar to one she’d owned in the outside world and would hardly be indecent to her friends. In fact, she had shorts that put half her ass on display. That was when she was still going to highschool parties and sneaking out to clubs with older friends. “It really isn’t that short, I’ve worn shorter.” The devious words were accompanied by a benign expression, other hand toying with the top of one of her socks. “Now c’mere. I’m chilly. I’m still allowed to touch, yeah?” Meg just needed him a little closer, near enough to slide a hand up her thigh. What possessed her to do this, she didn’t know; the little smile on her face though had become move devious as she leaned back and exposed another inch of freckled skin. The redhead could have sworn he’d muttered an astounded _‘shorter?’_ under his breath. He was still giving her that incredulous look, glancing at her hand before scanning slowly up her leg and shaking his head. That wouldn’t do.

“I’m a fucking mess,” Still, despite the hesitation and retort, Evan stepped closer. His hands fidgeted at his sides, as if magnetized by her presence, and Meg knew he wanted to touch but was struggling to stay composed. “What are you playing at? What are you up to?” Behind the mask, he squinted down at her and eyed the smile on her lips. Vaguely, Meg wondered if he was recalling their kiss. She hoped so.

“Mm,” her response was non-committal as Meg trailed pale fingertips up his arm and stained her skin red. Funny...she really didn’t mind. “Half my clothes are covered in blood and dirt, I don’t exactly have room to complain.” A light laugh accompanied the comment, and she moved the hand from her leg to hook a finger on his overalls and tug him just the slightest bit closer. “I’m usually up to something though, you know me.” Sliding her hand back down his arm, she interlocked their fingers while her other hand danced over the fastenings of his overalls. “But so suspicious, I just like appreciating you.” While not actively trying to undo the clip, she wanted him to be aware that her hand was simply there and to add to that she crossed and recrossed her legs to allow herself to be closer to him.

“I have good reason to be suspicious.” Evan responded with a huff, “ especially when you act so sly.” He gave her a look, brows drawn together behind the metal; though his eyes had broken from hers when her hand reached the clip. An evil thought ran through her head, and as she toyed with the metal, blue eyes looked up at him.

“Wanna take it off for me?” He choked, audibly. “The mask I mean,” Meg added with a little too much satisfaction. Now his eyes held accusation when they caught hers, and she knew he’d caught on to her game. He’d began to reach for his mask, when she decided to press her luck a little farther. “I just came to see you, help my love get rid of some of the stress…” While she was ready to toss herself at him, she wanted him to make the move. He was so proper, he needed to be the one to unwrap the little gift she’d presented herself as. Maybe, though, she could add a little incentive. Leaving his touch, her hand slid slowly up her thigh and left three devious little red streaks on her fair skin.

“Oops.”

Evan froze, hand on the lip of his mask as his eyes remained locked on the scarlet lines across her thigh. You could hear a pin drop in the silence.

His had moved almost immediately, roughly pressing his fingers to her thigh. His angry breaths stuttered for just a moment, before his hand moved again, wrapping his fingers about her leg and holding her in place. The runner gasped, eyes widening. A much less painful alternative to a beartrap for sure, but the shock of his hand holding her thigh like a prize...it was exciting.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he growled, his voice low and harsh, “and it’s not going to work.” She was practically giving herself to him, she wanted him to take the offer.. She sat poised like a gift, her clear confidence showcasing that she was fully aware of her actions. She knew she was beautiful, and she knew how irresistibly touchable she was. Meg could tell he was angry that he was giving into this, but the grip on her thigh remained just as insistent.

"I like a little danger," her eyes narrowed as one brow raised. Meg felt a warmth pool in her stomach, freckles darkening with the redness of her cheeks. She liked watching him fidget, the want in his movements giving him away.

Tucking her legs back, she managed to uncross them and let her legs hang off the table loosely. Her hand slid over top his before she raised it to catch on the lip of his mask, pressing up the tiniest bit. This close, she could see the darkened eyes behind it. Meg knew he could see her pupils blown wide, black nearly eclipsing the blue. She wanted this, him, and wanted to know it was reciprocated. The heat from his palm seemed to radiate through her, heartbeat picking up even more as a bloody handprint smeared across her skin. Meg knew she was getting to him, even if it was only a little. It was enough to get him to touch, to hold to her leg like a lifeline. He seemed too distracted to care that she removed the mask, a hunger in his eyes that gave her the impression that he was ready to devour her. The hand on her thigh moved slowly, traveling up her leg, pushing aside the skirt. A ragged breath escaped him when his thumb reached the garment underneath. His hands covered much of her thigh, and she couldn't hold the in the breathless gasp that fled from her lungs as he pressed his thumb into her skin. So close, a searing bolt of excitement zipping through her.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder gently, looking back up at him with doe eyes. Meg was small, delicate, and yet she felt barely in control here, like she held the power in her hands by just a thread. "I've been thinking," her voice started quietly, a soothing tone barely meant to be heard over his breath. "And I want you." In an instant, her hand slid down his front to rest just at the dip of his stomach. Her gaze didn't waver from his face as she spoke, lips turning into a sultry smile.

“Damn,” he breathed, his voice rough and heavy, “...you little devil. You don’t know what the hell you’re getting yourself into.” His voice seemed darker, deeper as he growled out the words. Meg only smiled in response, hand pulling away the mask to fully reveal his face and setting the thing beside her on the table. Her thumb traced down the scar on his chin before sliding to his chest. The other joined it, as he came closer.

His hand moved again, thumbing the edges of her underwear. Before long his other hand moved, resting on the opposite thigh before sliding upwards, under her skirt and around her hip. It was an intoxicating feeling- being this close, as he just barely restrained himself from taking what he so clearly wanted. The touch was intoxicating, clouding her thoughts until nothing remained but him. She worried the control was slipping, handing it over to him so willingly as his hands traveled up her thighs. When was the last time someone had touched her like this? The last time she wanted someone so badly? Meg couldn't remember.

"C'mon, Evan," her voice was dreamier, lulled and drawling. One foot traveled higher, hooking her leg on one of his thighs. Meg leaned closer, chin tilted upwards and eyes locked with his. Her legs scooted further apart, one still hanging freely while the other remained locked around his. "I can take it."

She wanted to see him break, snap, lunge at her with the power he carried in trials turned toward a new purpose. Meg craved the attention, the want, the heavy grip holding her to him by her thighs. The idea of having him was only becoming closer to reality, teeth biting at the inside of her cheek at the prospect. He was so close to being convinced, she could feel it. God, she was practically vibrating in her seat with the anticipation of it all. In fact-

"I need it."

Something changed in his eyes then, brow furrowed harshly as his jaw set. His teeth must have been clenched. A sudden growl tore from his throat and he lunged at her, her body was picked up and thrown over his shoulder. A large hand gripped at her thigh, and he moved with a speed she’d only seen in trials. “Wha-”

“I am not going to take you for the first time on a table, Meg” Now it was her turn to blush, hands grabbing the material of his overalls as he hauled her up the stairs. She’d finally gotten his desire to outweigh his impropriety, and as she wiggled slightly just to tease his grip tightened until she gasped. The bedroom door was kicked open unceremoniously, and he swung her into a bridal carry as they approached his bed.

In a swift, rough movement she was slid out of his arms and pinned to the bed. Without hesitation he was on her, pressing his lips to hers as he stole away her breath. In the meantime his hands moved, traveling down her sides and stopping at her skirt. His fingers slid under the fabric with ease, and he began pulling soft black fabric away. The explosive desire was overwhelming, and Meg wiggled her hips to help him along as he went. Her brain was rapidly devolving into the very focused plan of getting the overalls off him and getting him into her.

The skirt was removed with ease, and without missing a beat his hands moved to her top. His movements were rough and hasty, though focused, intent. He wanted her, and he wanted her now. 

Her top was pulled down- and he looked surprised to find she wore no bra to separate them. It was a very, very welcome surprise if his expression was anything to go by. He had come from a time of long dresses designed to be modest, paired with ironically tight corsets that dramaticized the figure. This must really be something new to him. Evan moved from her lips, planting greedy kisses across her cheeks and down her neck. Dark marks were sucked into her delicate skin, standing out against the pale, freckled canvas. He paused at the crook of her neck, pressing himself to her skin more forcefully, near biting it and leaving his mark. Meg whined, pressing up against him and letting his name slip through her lips. Evan drew back and looked her over. His right hand moved slowly up her side and over her chest, pausing just above the clavicle. His fingers reached up her neck, holding her in place as his thumb pushed her chin upward. The dark smile he wore told her just how much he loved the sounds she made.

“I’ll take all of you,” he spoke in a low growl, his eyes glowing with focused want.

Evan pressed into her for another long kiss, his free hand running down her side and gliding along the crook between her hip and her thigh. Meg’s body quivered, goosebumps rising in the wake of his touch. He only pulled away once he was breathless, the cool night air providing welcome relief. Pushing himself up and away, Evan turned, sitting himself up so he could remove the rest of his outfit. The rubber boots, the overalls, the boxers, they all had to go. Once freed he slowly looked over his shoulder, eyeing the splayed figure on his bed.

Evan moved suddenly, crawling atop her. He leaned down, pressing his head against hers before assaulting her cheek with fervent kisses, his momentary pauses for breath puffing hot air against her ear. In the meantime his hands moved to pull away the last barricade. How ironic, that before even grazing her underwear sent shivers down his spine. Yet now, the garment was fervently discarded. He could wait no longer, and Meg begged for him now as her hands reached to grasp at his shoulders. Once the garment was removed, he was upon her without hesitation. His hand held one thigh as his thick fingers ran over the soft seam of her cunt. A low growl slipped from his chest, allowing her slick to coat his fingers. Above him, she shuddered, hands grasping the sheets below as he slid one digit into her. His eyes looked nearly black as he looked down at her, sliding another to join his index finger. With a few experimental thrusts of his fingers, Meg whimpered and whined as she tried to pull him closer with her legs. Foreplay was well and good but she wanted him now.

With a dark chuckle, he pulled his fingers away and tugged her against him. The heat of his cock slid against her, Meg’s hips shifting against his as he ground against her. Meg was warm, wet, begging for him to fill her, fuck her, and finally he obliged. With a cant of his hips, he entered her and growled into the crook of her neck. His movements were fierce, the exertion evident in his tensed muscles and coarse breaths. He was trying to be gentle, to give her time to adjust, holding himself still as she tensed and clenched around him. One hand flew to cover her mouth but still, through her hand she was begging, his name mixing with "please please, fuck, god, fuck, oh my god" and moans that alternated in pitch with every shallow thrust. His voice growled in her ear and brought her eyes fluttering shut, nails digging into his skin as he kissed her.

“Look at you, taking it so well.” His lips were pressed to the skin of her neck, words muffled into the bruising flesh. “My good girl, do you like to be filled with my cock? “

Her mind couldn't piece together words after that, barely able to hiccup out his name as his hips smacked against hers. One hand clung to his shoulder, the other leaving her mouth to grab hold of the larger metal bar in his back and just hang on. Evan’s movements were swift and powerful, wracking her small body as he held her in place. He barely noticed as she reached up and clung to one of the bits of metal that jutted from his flesh. He was far too engrossed in the moment, his mind entirely devoured by euphoric desire. If she was coherent she may have worried about the noises she was making, the feeling of being so full she might break in half, the heat tearing it's way through her never ending. Now though, her thoughts were strung together by a thread and she was too busy being utterly fucked to worry about anything.

He paused, but not for rest. No, it was instead so he could lean closer, pressing a hand just below her neck, holding her down with his weight as he stole away more passionate kisses. Once she was left breathless he continued, his strength not letting up in the slightest. With every little gasp, and her breathy attempts at calling his name he seemed to be even more motivated. His movements only became quicker, fiercer, grinding into her with more and more of his strength and Meg knew he must be close. The intoxicating pleasure guided them, and she felt the heat of her orgasm rising within her. He was going to break her, she was going to succumb under the mounting pressure. And hopefully he wasn’t going to stop till she did.

Her hair stuck to her forehead, a sheen of sweat making Meg glow in the light and allowing his hands to mark her as he held her down. The ruddy red-brown of blood and dirt imprinting on her skin, smearing and staining and God she felt alive. The force behind his movement would bruise her hips, his hands gripping her hard enough to hurt but the pain felt good and right and perfect.

"Evan-" she gasped as a particularly rough smack of his hips sent one hand digging into the blankets to hold herself steady as he fucked her into the bed. He was rougher, harder, stronger than anyone in the past and hell if he didn't ruin her for anyone in the future. Her brain felt like static, crackling, unfocused on anything other than the man on top of her.

Meg's hand fled from the sheets, slipping between them to rub at herself and bring her closer, closer, nearly to the edge as she clung to him. Her body sang, back arched and head thrown back. Her voice was hardly more than air, sucking in breaths between the pounding pace he set as she called, begged, whispered for his love, his body, his everything. Red hair splayed around her like a bloody halo while her eyes pinched shut and her voice got higher, higher-

Her body realized before her brain did, clenching around him, voice cracking with a cry of his name and legs tightening around him. It was good, beautiful, white light behind her eyelids as he kept going, kept pressing into her. Meg's hand came away from the crux of her thighs to cling to him again, blunted nails leaving crescents in his flesh. Marking, the tiniest bit like he'd marked her, showing that he was mine, mine, mine, no one else could have this, have him.

With a roar, the man held her tight to him after a final, harsh snap of his hips. His teeth dug into the skin of her shoulder, taking in a shaky breath as he spilled within her. Meg was consumed with the feeling of him, surrounding her, inside her to the point she could feel nothing but him.

Evan released his held breath, his sigh rough and heavy, before collapsing atop her. One arm was pressed against the bed, it and his legs propping himself up enough to not crush her, as his other arm wrapped around her, holding her close. His back rose and fell as he lay there, pressed against her. Evan turned his head slightly, his breaths rough against her neck as he began an assault of soft kisses. He was near breathless, but he didn’t pull himself away. Meg legs slid off, one propped up as she tried to catch her breath. His incessant kisses brought a drowsy smile to her lips, tilting her head to the side and accepting them eagerly. The sizzling afterglow of sex made her feel so warm, so gloriously content that she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

"Better than push ups?" She teased, voice still airy as she tried to get her heart rate to calm down. Meg released the metal she'd been holding onto, smoothing down his arm while the other rubbed his back. His breath was still quick, little puffs of air making her shiver the slightest bit as he rested above her. That was by far the most fun she'd had seducing someone, and it gave her a pretty damn good result. Maybe she'd need to do it more often. His rain of affection was interrupted momentarily by her tease, which brought a dizzy grin to his face.

“God, yeah,” he breathed against her skin before continuing. After a few minutes though, she became overheated. However much his presence made her feel safe and whole, he was like a blast furnace. Gently, she urged him onto his back so she could rest at his side rather than be all encompassed by him. Stubborn and sleepy, he hesitated a moment, but eventually rolled off of her and onto his back. They were quick to embrace each other once more- he ran an arm around her as she nuzzled against his chest, drawing from him a happy sigh. 

"Mmm, the girls in the outside world ere missing out." Meg's voice remained languid, drawing little hearts and stars on his chest with her fingertips. She an artist, and that was the extent of her creativity for the time being. 

“I don’t give a shit about them,” he grumbled adamantly, “they couldn’t hope to compare to you.” His rough breaths grew slower, more relaxed. Slowly his hand moved, gently running his fingers through her hair.

“God,” he breathed, a grin playing on his lips, "you drive me crazy." His hand ran down her back, gently tracing her spine up and down, before raising it again to run his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. Her brain was still buzzing a bit, but she tried to just relax. For now she just wanted to be here and enjoy him. Meg couldn't help her smile, leaning up to kiss him before getting comfortable in his arms. The hand on his chest stretching to wrap her arm around him just barely. Either she was too small or he was too broad, probably a combination of both. Still, sleepy eyes looked over him as she snuggled up to him, admiring his body. A hum of approval slipped quietly from her, turning her head to look up at him. Damn, it was nice to have her hair played with and she was so relaxed it was incredible she managed to stay awake.

"Mm, I hope I drive you crazy in a good way." Her words were mumbled, sleepy eyes opening to look at him. "Because I'm always down to help with stress relief." The cheeky grin returned, and she laid her head down on his chest. "And I'll be sure to wear skirts more often." Meg was slightly upset that they couldn't do this every time she needed rest, having to return to the fire and pretend she'd narrowly avoided everything in the fog while jogging. Though, if the soreness told her anything she'd have a few bruises that would need to be covered up. If she got back to the fire with a massive hickey, questions would be flying.

Hopefully, she’d have a while before she had to do any explaining. "I think I'm going to nap, wanna stay here for a bit?" She hoped he did, hoped he wanted to stay and cuddle and just be with her as she rested. Meg was an utter mess in love. "Then I have to head back later, I promised to be back to help out with some stuff." The regret in her voice was nearly tangible, words dripping with hesitation and the want to stay. If anyone did find out, she'd probably stay here all the time. Avoid the pointed glares and questioning stares. Avoid the guilt.

“Meg, I’d keep you here forever if I could,” he whispered, tilting his head down to nuzzle his face against her hair. Meg smiled, snuggling closer. Still, she'd need to clean up before leaving. Scrub thoroughly with lake water and try to pull her skirt down to a reasonable length before praying to just about every deity that the survivors don't suspect anything. Hell of a task she had waiting for her.

Even with the knowledge of the future, for now she was happy. The drowsiness was really starting to kick in, and her eyes shut. His breathing lulled her better than any lullaby, and soon she dreamt of a life where they didn’t have to hide in the shadows of the manor and could walk in the sunlight again.


End file.
